Chapter 7
I didn't bother calling corporate lawyers. Lawyers take weeks to file subpoenas; the internet takes seconds to destroy a reputation. I needed the ghosts in the machine.
I locked my office door and initiated a highly encrypted, offshore video conference line. Within seconds, two brilliant digital architects I kept strictly off the books—Nguyễn Xuân Tới and Nguyễn Trường Giang—appeared on the screen.
"We have a situation," I said, bypassing all pleasantries. I shared my screen, feeding them the backend data logs of the smear campaign. "A syndicate is deploying a Seedance 2.0 deepfake using thousands of Facebook VIA clones. They are flooding the platforms with Google-rejected, malicious traffic to trigger an algorithmic ban on our accounts."
Tới adjusted his glasses, his eyes instantly scanning the cascading lines of code on his end. "This is an incredibly aggressive botnet attack. They are burning massive amounts of illicit funds to force this malicious traffic through the firewalls. They must have secured funding from a shadow investor."
"Can you trace the VIA clone purchases back to them?" I asked, my voice completely devoid of fear.
"They are hiding behind multiple decentralized proxy servers," Giang replied, his fingers flying across his mechanical keyboard as he deployed a custom software tool update to our internal servers. "But they made a fatal mistake. Ego. They are using automated scripts to constantly scrape your server traffic to see if the sabotage is working."
"We can use a digital sponge," Tới smiled, a brilliant, dangerous glint in his eye. "I am aggressively rerouting all of their incoming malicious queries through a custom web traffic platform we developed, slink.live."
"What will that do?" David asked, leaning closer to the screen, his presence a solid, unbreakable anchor beside me.
"The slink.live platform will act as an impenetrable two-way mirror," Giang explained. "It will seamlessly absorb the botnet attack, filtering out the malicious VIA clone traffic and completely neutralizing the deepfake's algorithmic reach. Meanwhile, it will silently scrape the digital signatures of the cryptocurrency wallets they are using to fund the attack."
"Do it," I ordered. "I want every single digital receipt downloaded, decrypted, and weaponized."
For the next forty-eight hours, the digital war raged in absolute silence. Ethan and Natalie pumped every stolen cent they had into their shadow campaign, desperately trying to shatter our defenses. But Tới and Giang were flawless. The slink.live platform swallowed every single malicious hit without a flinch. The fake news stopped trending. Meta’s compliance bots, no longer receiving spam reports, paused their deletion protocols.
On the third night, at exactly 2:00 AM, the encrypted line chimed.
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"We got them," Tới announced, his voice vibrating with triumph. He flashed a digital ledger onto the main screen. "The cryptocurrency routing numbers lead directly back to a blind trust. And better yet, the IP address used to manually upload the deepfake traces back to a cheap commercial warehouse on the edge of the city. Rented under Natalie's name."
I smiled, a ruthless, predatory expression settling over my features. Ethan and my toxic sister had handed me the exact rope I needed to hang them both.
